Israfil
by Symmet
Summary: A collection of stories where various characters interact with Raphael. Cover pertains to the first.
1. fortis

Castiel manages to convince Raphael that if he must die, it should not be for a war but for the peace. Inspired by the song Brave by Sara Bareilles.

* * *

"Have you forgotten how to heal, Raphael, or are you afraid that without God, you cannot? That you are nothing without him? Why not prove yourself worthy of your name?"

Raphael looks up, and the fire dances along his skin, and pours into his words, flickering along them as matches thrown upon the earth, hungry and ready to burn.

"_What did you say?_", soft fury.

But Castiel will not be intimidated. He holds the Archangel's wrathful glare evenly.

"Why not be brave?"

* * *

_LUCIFER_

_You can be amazing_  
_You can turn a phrase in_  
_to a weapon or a drug_  
_You can be the outcast_  
_Or be the backlash_  
_of somebody's lack of love_  
_Or you can _  
_start speaking up_

* * *

Raphael remembered the morningstar, the brightness and the love and the joy that had he had sent out like pollen on the wind, catching all around him in a glow of happiness that reached far beyond his wings.

He remembered losing that light, too, and the destruction that seared itself onto their Graces, the horror and the agony and the ache, a brand that burns even now.

He looks upon the Angel that asks him to question, just as Lucifer once did, but beyond that cannot find any reason Lucifer would have anything in common with him, even as he plants that seed of doubt in the Angel's thoughts as to who returned him. But the Angel is too sure of God's will, too caught up in the strings of fate to listen, and perhaps it is better for that, since Lucifer really would have had no reason to bring him back. But the alternative breeds a despair that is black and tar-like within him, that Father would keep so silent for so long, only to expend his energies upon a seraphim like Castiel.

Of course, maybe it was a point to Castiel's cause, the only angel in Heaven or Hell to take it up.

* * *

_GABRIEL_

_Nothing's gonna hurt you_

_the way that words do_  
_When they settle 'neath your skin_  
_Kept on the inside_  
_and no sunlight_  
_Sometimes the shadows win_  
_But I wonder what would happen if you_

* * *

Was Gabriel truly alive, as Castiel said? Raphael wanted to deny the possibility, wanted to smite the angel where he stood, demanding so much of Raphael, pulling up emotions long buried away to keep from tearing his Grace apart.

Raphael had mourned worse than most. He had found himself a failure to his name and the duty he bore to God, to Gabriel, the healer unable to reach his brother's side when he was in need. Alone.

Raphael had spent many years thinking of how alone Gabriel must have felt as he died. Now, as he let the anger and rage flush through his vessel, he admits to himself that he must not have been far off. That Gabriel must have dreaded it, been torn between staying and leaving.

Gabriel and he had always been afraid of being alone. While Gabriel had found himself choosing that over the loss of his brethren, Raphael reacted to Gabriel's death in the exact reverse way. Finding himself without Lucifer and Gabriel had made him hold even tighter to Michael, to retreat to his side and stay ever closer.

* * *

_MICHAEL_

_Say what you wanna say_

_And let the words fall out_  
_Honestly _  
_I wanna see you be brave_  
_With what you want to say_  
_And let the words fall out_  
_Honestly _  
_I wanna see you be brave_

* * *

And Michael. What could be said about that? He dreaded not only opposing but simply confronting Michael. He had learned to ignore his brother's faults and love him wholly and completely. The love he would have otherwise spent on his younger siblings he instead lavished upon Michael, hoping that he might bring his brother back from the wayward place his Grace had found itself in, lost to the past, only coming back to the future when one thing was mentioned.

The Apocalypse.

Was it any surprise that Raphael had gladly joined his brother's campaign? In his fear of loneliness he had entrapped himself in Michael's existence. But he'd learned to fear the pain that came with love, and so disassociated himself, withdrew from all those he did not already know, refused to meet all his countless younger siblings and love and lose them, too.

He had found himself wanting for the Apocalypse, for an end.

For if Michael killed Lucifer, there was no doubt in Raphael's mind that he would not hesitate to turn the blade upon himself after the deed was done. And then Raphael would be alone.

And Raphael knew it would only be a matter of time before he ended his life, too. For so long he had teetered on the edge, in between a will to live and a want for death. He had seen death, had pulled it away from so many, but had watched the peace of it wash over those few in his care that it did claim.

But until then Michael needed him.

* * *

_I just want to see you_  
_I just wanna see you_  
_I just wanna see you_  
_I wanna see you be brave_

_I just wanna see you_  
_I just wanna see you_  
_I just wanna see you_  
_I wanna see you be brave_

* * *

"Will you?"

"Let me out." No. He would be faithful to Michael, would not force Michael to do what he had had to do to Lucifer.

"Please, Raphael, for Father." Castiel is not so much urging him as begging him. But there is a lack of desperation there, and Raphael knows desperation, has felt the reek of it through his grace on the battlefield when so many are dying around him.

He has almost always been able to remedy it.

"You never met Father."

"I do not know why he brought me back unless to finish what I started."

"Why come to me?"

"I could feel it as you killed me. I felt it in your Grace, Raphael, do not believe me to be ignorant."

Raphael laughed, then, at that, self depreciating beneath his loathing for Castiel.

If it did not hurt so much, it would be cute.

None could hope to understand him, especially a falling rebel. Ignorant?

He thought it was so much more. No one knew. It was not ignorance.

It was conspiracy, and lies, and fear.

"Little brother, you trust your memories of death too well."

"There was a desperation there, Raphael. A ferocity when you struck me. As though you were trying to convince yourself that if you could destroy me, you could destroy your own doubts."

Castiel stepped forward, his expression a challenge, squinting at Raphael, just a tiny bit of arrogance, but well gained, because he knew, just as Raphael knew.

"_Did_ you convince yourself?" Castiel says, fire flickering across the planes of his face.

_no_

But there was only silence.

For what was to be said?

* * *

_GABRIEL_

_Everybody's been there,_  
_Everybody's been stared _  
_down by the enemy_  
_Fallen for the fear_  
_And done some disappearing,_  
_Bow down to the mighty_  
_Don't run, _  
_just stop holding your tongue_

* * *

He started with Gabriel because he was the easiest for Raphael to test his newly acquired free will with. And because Raphael was still hurt, still angry.

"You left me." It comes out less cold then it should, it should be silver and cold and sharp as a blade, but somewhere it turned into thorns, wrapping around him instead, flushed with life and pain and emotion.

"I couldn't stay and watch anyone die anymore, Raph, c'mon." And Gabriel is breaking, too.

"You had a duty."

"I couldn't do my freakin' duty! I was supposed to go out there and judge all of our little brothers who had been swayed by Luce and it wasn't their fault, they didn't know better! I was supposed to kill them! I couldn't, Raph, and Michael wasn't going to let that go."

"You had a duty as my brother."

Grace tears, pooling in the air, falling off Gabriel's feathers like snowflakes, make the room too bright. Gabriel at last turns away, "I couldn't do that, either." He whispers, wiping his eyes with a sleeve.

"Come back."

Angry, afraid, "Were you listening? I can't! Not then, not now, not ever!"

"Help me put an end to it. Stop this."

Shock, "What, are you serious? You know those two, you couldn't stop them short of Dad putting them in time out." Disbelief is suspended, like dust caught in shafts of sunlight, even as Gabriel dismisses him, there is an edge of wonder as he realizes that Raphael speaks truthfully. That maybe even Raphael can change.

"Gabriel, I can't do this alone."

Gabriel sags, "I…I can't. I can't get between our family, like, ever again. I can't bring myself to hurt you, or let you get hurt. I can't do anything about it, but I can't stay and watch."

But really, all Raphael ever had to say was, "Then why can't we be a family again?"

Soft, the quiet that overtakes Gabriel.

"No." He whispers, "We're too broken."

Raphael whispers, hope liquid smoke in the air, "Be brave with me."

* * *

_LUCIFER_

_Maybe there's a way out of the cage_  
_where you live_  
_Maybe one of these days _  
_you can let the light in_  
_Show me how big your brave is_

_Say what you wanna say_  
_And let the words fall out_  
_Honestly _  
_I wanna see you be brave_  
_With what you want to say_  
_And let the words fall out_  
_Honestly _  
_I wanna see you be brave_

* * *

He went to Lucifer second because he still wanted to put off seeing Michael as long as he could. And because he wanted to know if Satan was a different being than the brother he remembered.

"Raphael…this is…a surprise." Lucifer is not wary, but he does send all the demons out with a flick of his wrist. His ashen, scabbed wrist. All along his vessel are cracks and sores. The healer within Raphael cries out against it.

Suddenly, besides him appears Gabriel, and though Gabriel is terrified to be here, to let this happen, he would not let Raphael die like this. For he does believe Raphael will die. But without thought, he refuses to let it be alone. Gratitude remembers itself in Raphael's Grace, for he had missed Gabriel and the simple lightness he brought with him, imbued the environment around him with.

"Gabriel." Lucifer says softly. Raphael wonders if he heard of Gabriel's death. Then he wonders if Satan is no more than a name to hide Lucifer under, from everyone, including himself. If it was to convince even Lucifer that he was capable of being the monster that had been foretold to be.

But there is a gentleness, an sweetness in the look he rests upon their youngest archangel, a thought of days so old they had seen the world reborn a thousand fold since then.

Lucifer waits for whatever news they bear, and Raphael is suddenly feeling nostalgic, then nauseated, of appearing before Lucifer and telling him that their Father had summoned him, remembers telling the grim ArchAngel that Michael had refused to accompany them.

"Don't do it." Gabriel blurts before he can figure what to say.

Lucifer tilts his head, unwilling to decipher that.  
"The Apocalypse. Make up with Mike. Decide not to destroy everything. Come back." Gabriel says in a rush.

And Raphael cringes in his Grace, because no. Because Lucifer has given up too much to simply drop it, to simply let all the pain go.

Instead Lucifer freezes and says, "Did Michael…?" as if he is waiting for the answer before he decides anything.

"No. But please, Luce, please come back to us."

Lucifer's expression clears, and he says with a sad smile, "I'm sorry, Gabriel, but you know I must. I would never be welcome home, either. Michael would never accept any apologies, would never care."

Gabriel deflates beside him.  
But Raphael feels woozy, his Grace is spinning circles of surprise within.

"And if Michael could?" He says.

Lucifer looks up at him sharply, "He wouldn't." He says. Not that it didn't matter, or would make no difference.

But that makes it all the more simple.

* * *

_MICHAEL_

_And since your history of silence_  
_Won't do you any good,_  
_Did you think it would?_  
_Let your words be anything but empty_  
_Why don't you tell them the truth?_

_Say what you wanna say_  
_And let the words fall out_  
_Honestly _  
_I wanna see you be brave_  
_With what you want to say_  
_And let the words fall out_  
_Honestly _  
_I wanna see you be brave_

* * *

"Raphael."

"Michael."

Short, sudden silence, surprise and alarm and for a moment there stands Michael, not the General of Heaven lost in his grief.

"Gabriel?"

And Gabriel, standing beside him, just as apprehensive, suddenly gives a small, warm grin. "Hey, bro."

"You're alive."

"So um, actually have something to kind of run by you-"

Raphael is not sure who expects Michael to hug Gabriel less.

"I thought you were lost, like Lucifer." He says to Gabriel's shoulder. Gabriel looks both panicked and relieved.

Raphael clears his throat. Gabriel straightens and Michael draws away.

"Actually, we wanted to talk about that."

Michael looks at Raphael, curious. There is the brother, beyond the soldier or the general, or even the ArchAngel.  
"Lucifer is not lost. Not forever, at least, Mike." Gabriel cuts in.

Michael turns to look at him, caught between confusion and wariness, "Gabriel?"

"We can guide him home. Bring him back. He would drop this all if you would, you know that right?"

Michael slowly shakes his head, stopping halfway through and then resuming it as if he'd forgotten to tell his neck to continue doing that as he tries to understand. "No, Lucifer wouldn't... he-" He stops, takes a step back from Gabriel, as if they have swung at him, and perhaps it must seem as if they have.

And Raphael expects him to smite them, or at least return to his wrath, his rage and pain and emptiness.

"Michael, be brave." He whispers, "please."

Michael is caught by that, because Raphael would never speak to him so, has never once asked anything of him, except silently praying of an absent Father that they keep each other.

"Raphael." He says mournfully.

"Michael, could you? Could you just...I don't know, call a truce?"

Michael's face twists, the air is almost humming, deadly to passing humans or animals alike, so charged with Grace made unstable by emotion, bleeding out into the earth and windless night.

"He would never" He forces out almost brokenly, "I...he would not want a truce." It is a painful way he says it, unable to hope for fear that hope will break him.

And there, softly, from the shadows, quietly steps the Dragon, the Roaring Lion, the Tempter, the Adversary and Accuser.

"I would for you."

_alway_s

Michael stills, then turns to regard Satan, and he has not seen him, never since so long ago, only heard of his return. Only felt his Grace cry out when the Devil was freed. They joy and the fear and the pain. For he must have remembered that it was Satan, not Lucifer, who now returned to the Earth. Lucifer stands before him, humble, at least, waiting. Satan would be able to trick him, the Deceiver and Wicked One, and of this Michael is most afraid, to love and lose again.

* * *

_I just want to see you_  
_see you be brave_


	2. The Confrontation: Convincere

A decidedly unallied face makes an appearance… and a request.

* * *

Unknown to Dean - or Castiel - Sam hadn't quit hunting when he'd parted ways with Dean. Instead, he'd realized that the Apocalypse was _his_ fault, and therefore responsibility, but also that being close to Dean endangered not only his brother but all of the world - if one side got their hands on the both of them, it was all over. So he'd played his part, even lied to Bobby to keep it under wraps, and set out as a solo hunter.

At one point, he very nearly walks into Dean on a hunt, and, deciding he wants to know what his brother is up to, follows him and Castiel on their search for the archangel Raphael.

* * *

Sam stood flat against the wall, hidden in the shadows. At first, he had been completely and utterly horrified. He hadn't gotten there in time to know that Dean and Castiel had prepared for the Archangel, so his first thought was, _I'm such a fucking idiot!_ He'd gone through the trouble of cutting ties to Dean and Bobby - for what? Raphael was gonna kill Cas, grab Dean, and probably realize Sam was there. And then everything would go to shit.

Of course, then Dean tossed his lighter, and things suddenly looked marginally better.

…

"**_And what we want, we get!_**"

He sounded like a petulant child, but beneath was a hopelessness, all encompassing, shrouding what was once clear and bright in a storm of dust that no light could pierce. Sam stood there, hidden in the shadows, and listened to it all. He listened to Raphael, and instead of hating him, he felt bad for the poor bastard. Even when he told Castiel that Lucifer had probably been the one to raise him - and Sam knew the guy personally and disagreed because he would have mentioned it, Sam is sure - Sam just felt pity even though Raphael was lying through his teeth.

Sam waited until the other two had left before he took a deep breath and slid out from the shadows. He was greeted with the sight of a very dangerous archangel encircled in fire (Sam hadn't had the courage nor stupidity to look before then). Immediately two golden eyes snapped up to watch him.

Sam contemplated the angel before him. Unlike Cas, who certainly didn't initially fit the ideal image of an "angel", Raphael was much closer to it. In his rumpled mechanics clothes, he certainly didn't dress the part, but he excluded that same strange aura as Cas, one that made you feel as if there was something alien about the person in front of you. Except his was exceptionally stronger, and it came with the unmistakable pressure of power.

Sam refused to break the silence. There was something terrifying in it - so strong that he couldn't even bring himself to flee, as if that would be unforgivable, a mistake that his instincts refused to let him make. Some intense gravity curled out of the furious archangel and kept him from running out without saying anything.

But he refused to break the silence.

Finally, the archangel was prompted into action.

"You are Samuel Winchester." There was great formality to it, as if between being thankful that Sam had initiated the Apocalypse, refused to cooperate, and also happened to be Satan's vessel, Raphael was not sure how to feel about him.

Sam didn't know where he found the gall to shrug and say, "Yeah, but generally I go by a different name." because he was faintly sure his cerebral cortex had stopped working, since what kind of idiot goads on an _archangel_?

(A voice in the back of his mind answered; "_Dean!_")

Raphael didn't seem to think it was funny. Sam silently agreed.

"Why are you here?" His voice was like Cas's in that it carried.

It carried a lot. There was a weight to his voice that pressed down on you, made something inside squirm and panic.

"I wanted to know why you want the Apocolypse so much."

Raphael's wary expression quickly became cold, even though Sam had spoken levelly and honestly._  
_

"God has either left or died. But there remains all that He foretold. What can we do but follow that in His absence?"

Of course, it wasn't really a question - it was spoken as if he dared Sam to contradict it.

Naturally, Sam attempts to do just that.

"What if it was a test? He does do that-"

"Yes. To see what His children would do in his absence. Perhaps we failed. I do not know. All I can think is that paradise would not be complete without the Lord. Maybe He's been waiting for the Apocalypse, maybe it's end will herald His return. It is all I can hope for. I grow weary, either we have lost His affections or we have a job to do - we must gain His love again, prove ourselves worthy of it. Or He truly is dead. In which case, dying is just as well for us."

And Sam realized. Raphael was having a suicide crisis. He wanted everything to be over. Except it was bigger than himself - he wanted to end the world in the process. He thought bringing paradise around might make him happy again, or he would die trying.

"Raphael…"

"I am tired! I cannot - if He loves us no more, then He is dead, for we are but His soldiers. Without His love, we are nothing, we have no reason to exist, and He has truly left heaven, and died there. We will all die in His name, regardless. Without His favor, Lucifer may truly win - and he will destroy all the demons as well as the humans, leaving the world cleansed. Empty of sin or chaos. Far better off than it is now."

Sam was alarmed, "If you're suicidal -"

"I do not know what to do! I want Him back! We need Him! I will prove we are worthy, willing to do anything! But until He has forgiven us, absolved us of failure, has returned, I will do what I must. Perhaps it is that we are drawn to death, hoping to follow."

And if that voice was not so lost, Sam would be furious, that he would discard so much life so easily.

"What, so you think God killed himself and now you, an extension of his will, has that hankering, too?"

"it is not so simple."

"Well?"

"You could never understand."

"I'm trying, okay? I'm willing to. This is your chance, this is how you get me to say yes."

And maybe Raphael doesn't want to talk about it, but that _is_ important for getting him what he wants. That being the Apocalypse.

Because Sam really does want to understand, if only because some shattered part of him still wants to believe in the heaven he used to wish for, to have faith in, can be revived.

"I find that hard to believe."

"Well if someone had told me a year ago that Angels wanted to jumpstart the Apocalypse, I would have felt the same."

Stony silence is met with that. What little leverage Sam has over Raphael is being put to the test. Refuse to speak and he may strengthen Sam's resolve instead of remove it.

Finally, "I will do whatever it takes. In His name I will either usher in paradise and have His return, or burn it all."

"Why?"

"Because I have nothing else. I cannot love in Gabriel, who was lost to me - or rather, stole himself away. I cannot love Lucifer, for he is the morningstar no more, now he is Satan, and he stands against God. I cannot love Uriel, for he is both dead and a traitor, if Castiel was to be believed. I cannot love in Michael, who forgot the brother he was once, and is now my general, nothing more. I love in God, but He has lost His love in us, found us lacking. I cannot even love in my younger brethren, for they do not know the truths that I do, and though I am alone, I would not have them share the burden of being abandoned, for too many would break of it."

Sam felt breathless, "So you'll lie?"

"I will withhold a truth that would destroy them. We are extensions of God's will - what does a will do without that which wills it? We have seen humans lose their will, but never what happens to the will itself. It is simply gone. We should be as dust, but I'll not yet forsake this rock my Father coveted so - I will end everything for Him before I go."

A whisper that shatters through the air. Ice, melting and glittering crystals in ageless eyes,

"Do you _really_ think that's what he would have wanted?"

…

Because Raphael was one of the few angels who had actually known God. And Sam knew his lore before he _knew_ Angels were real, because he'd had faith for so long. Raphael was the Healer, his name literally meant, "_It is God who heals_", and if any of the archangels could appreciate life, it would be him. Until now, Sam had assumed he'd lost that part of himself - after all, he'd seen the shell of a man left behind when Raphael had gone, and he had been horrified that the archangel associated with healing could do that. But now Sam realizes Raphael is trying not to care anymore.

And it's not working.

When it becomes clear that Raphael cannot answer, cannot even bring himself to bullshit that, Sam feels the change in the air. Something releases, and just as he knew before that he could not leave, he now knew he could.

His gaze flickers to one of the windows - glass painted with water, still pelting from the storm Raphael had begun earlier.

He walks over and picks up a piece of cloth that had been left on the floor - among some empty paint cans and he thinks the wooden handle to a mop. Dust gasps from the fabric as he picks it up.

He walks toward the silent archangel, who, though unable to speak, watches him intently.

He throws the tarp on part of the fire, and golden eyes that had watched it bring about freedom sudden flash up to meet his.

Logically, he knows that Raphael has absolutely no reason not to grab him and drop him off at Lucifer's feet, with literally no trouble.

But something deeper knows Raphael can't.

He doesn't say anything, just turns and walks out of the warehouse.

Immediately it stops raining.


	3. The Confrontation: Angels don't cry

Raphael's confrontation version 2: A long lost face makes an appearance…and a request.

_(Set as if Changing channels happened before Free to Be You and Me)_

* * *

In a dim, damp warehouse, a small ring of fire was flickering. It looked like it was minutes from hissing out, but an angel would know better - holy fire didn't generally cease - it would just keep on flickering. You'd have to pat the flames out or douse them or use supernatural or celestial intent.

_Like a finger snap of grace._

You could shove something over them, too, something that the prisoner could use to escape. A plank of wood, a piece of rope, a body (living or dead not important). As long as the angel inside left before that caught fire too, it would work.

Unfortunately for Raphael, it didn't seem like anything was gonna fall over the fire anytime soon, no matter how furiously Raphael shoved the winds and water and lightning around the place. Even though it was old, this place was sturdy, and it didn't appear to have that many leaks - and of the few, none of which would eventually help him get out.

_drip drip drip_

It looked as if Cassie had put some_ very_ anti-angel sigils on the walls - naughty, naughty! - which prevented even an archangel from contacting the Host. It was thorough, too, wouldn't even let prayers through.

Imagine that! The great archangel Raphael having to pray for assistance! Actually, it sounds like the beginnings of a beautiful prank, although maybe just sealing parts of prayer would be more fun. Now - a curse to only speak in rhyme…or backwards? Or both! Of course, the victim would be unable to outright ask for help - _duh_ - obviously they'd have to get at it the long way round. He wonders how long it would take Michael - _that would be a hoot_ -

"**Show yourself**."

Oh. Raphael noticed him. He hated that voice. The smitey voice. It made him feel itchy.

Although… it didn't seem as if Raphael had realized who he was.

Or _what _he was.

Gabriel would like to keep it that way, too.

_drip drip drip_

Raphael has not turned to face him, because he can sense the ward spell Gabriel spent forever gluing together like some poor deranged model airplane fanatic. Unless Gabriel lifts it, his perceived form will just be whatever Raphael thinks he is at any given moment. Fun, huh?

Of course, less so with an Archangel, which was one of the drawbacks - the more powerful or potent a magic, they easier they were for angels to sense.

It hadn't taken Castiel long to guess.

But then again, he wasn't planning on using his grace so often as he had then.

And Raphael didn't know he'd messed around with the Winchesters. Not especially hard to guess who would be invested in the knuckleheads' destinies.

He stepped forward, letting his material form make all the normal noises - shuffling, splashing, the low creak of a bone, a light sniffle. He didn't drop the ward, though.

"Nah."

Thunder rolled outside - not a threat, merely voicing Raphael's displeasure. His power could get away from him sometimes.

Raphael finally turned around, but without giving away who - or what - ever he saw or thought Gabriel to be. Pity. Gabriel thinks he could have had some fun with that. The flames made Raphael's face orange and blue (from the light outside), like a really ugly ten year old's painting.

"State your business."

Raphael probably wasn't going to ask who he was - he'd obviously deigned to answer when he declined to reveal himself. His animosity probably wouldn't be questioned further from within the ring of fire. Once Raffie was out, however…

Well, he probably wouldn't be so _cordial_.

"Heard you were in the neighborhood. Just curious to see how you're holding up." A shrug, a grin, nonchalance feigned to the best of his very high quality ability.

In truth he didn't really know why he was here. Because it had been forever since Raphael had come down to Earth? Because he missed his older brother? Because he hadn't intended to get noticed (and that told him he was getting sloppy, surrounded by all these inept monsters or pagans or humans and getting too cushy) and merely peep in?

Raphael didn't know what to make of that answer, except perhaps that he didn't like it, because it didn't sound promising, apparently.

"Is your curiosity stated?"

"Well…now that I've been seen n' all…"

_Nah, not really._

Raphael scowled. Something inside Gabriel ached to grin at that. He still had the same facial expressions, even in a new vessel, after thousands of years.

"If you harass me, I will kill you but second after I am free."

Raphael threatened him! He chose to be endeared as opposed to upset. Because, well… _D'awwwwwww._

"What, after Cassie? Oh, no no no, I _demand_ priority. I'm calling on loyalty rewards, here."

He snapped a lollipop into existence. All this family catching up was really working away at his non-existent hunger.

Lucifer used to play or bully him, and Michael would reprimand then get exasperated with him, but Raphael was always the discipline. He'd say, "Someone has to judge you, Gabriel, because you will not do it yourself." Raphael used to be the one to punish him.

So yeah, Raphael going for Cas first was a _tiny_ bit offensive. He was Raphael's number one trouble-maker, after all. He'd just given Raph a reprieve from his more obvious antics. What with the family feud going on. Besides, he liked the kid. Had spunk, rebelling and trapping Raphael like this. Wanted a death sentence, but spunky.

"And what **loyalty** is that?"

Gabriel scrunched up his face contemplatively - wondering how that showed up on whoever's face he wore now - and shrugged, "_Yeah_…no comment."

Raphael frowned. Gabriel was intentionally not being aggressive or hostile, but he wasn't making any sense, either.

Not that he felt any need to remedy that.

"Why are you here?" Raphael's celestial energies honed in on Gabriel, and he felt a muscle jump in his jaw.

Outside, the storm had quieted. Suddenly Gabriel felt like he was the one caged, pent in.

He got defensive like that, snarky.

"Just 'cuz I feel like it. What about _you_? Here for the scenery?" He crunched annoyingly on the lollipop, at once relishing Raphael's silent snarl and admonishing himself for it.

Raphael glared at him. In the lighting, his eyes looked black, glittering with dancing flame.

_drip drip drip_

"Very well. I will kill you first."

Gabriel wondered who Raphael thought he was now - now that he suddenly really hated Gabriel's guts. Enough to ignore Castiel for the time being.

Instead he said, "Attaboy." Oh. No more lollipop left. Gabriel regarded the stick suspiciously, as if it had something to do with that.

"Or you could free me and I pardon you." Ah, never mind. Raphael hadn't been giving him his murderous intent stare, but his business transaction stare.

Gabriel shrugged and popped the stick back in his mouth.

Boring.

"But what if I'm Cas?" he said, wriggling his eyebrows. He _could_ be, for all Raphael knew, although it was pushing it to make out the falling angel to be able to pull of this spell.

"Unless his mannerisms have changed since his death, I'll assume otherwise."

_touche._

He turned towards the entrance, "Nah, I think the orange suits you. Brings out the black in your beady little eyes. But as for me, it's getting a little hot in here, so I'm gonna make like a piñata and-"

"Brother! Wait!" Came the stricken call.

He paused and realized too late what he'd revealed. He stood with his back to his brother, mentally cursing himself. But for a moment, he had been terrified.

_For Raphael._

But his brother was a good actor. In fact, they were all good actors.

Luce was the only one who ever got any credit for it, though.

He clenched his hands and tried to think.

**_Dang it_**_._

_drip drip drip_

"So you are one of my brethren. Or _were_."

_drip drip drip_

"I **will **find you first, then, and pull that excuse for grace from that vessel and **end your petty existence**."

Ah, that was the Archangel voice. The Big boss. Mr. Cheese. The top kahuna.

Suddenly Gabriel relaxed.

"That's cute. But I'm pretty sure your tracking skills haven't improved since last we met. I'll be absolutely fine."

Rather, Raphael's tracking skills palled in comparison to his hiding skills. _Same difference_.

He's turned back, now, hands slung into his pockets, slouched against the nearest wall to give off an air of indifference.

Inside his grace is still boiling.

_Brother! Wait!_

"I can hunt the fallen well enough."

A bark of laughter erupts before he can contain it. Raphael was punishing angels for disobedience? _Huh_.

Did that make Gabriel a gateway drug? Because Raphael had never _had_ to punish anyone as a rule - he'd only ever had a self-proclaimed right on Gavbriel's behalf.

_drip drip drip_

There's too much unsaid, too much Raphael could take from that. He thinks of something to say.

"You enjoy it, do you?" The grin that curls over his mouth is grim and dark and twisted. He rolls the stick between his teeth.

He'd **hated** bringing judgement upon his brothers. It was bad enough watching them die. Being involved in the process had been too much. But he was the Archangel of judgement.

…

So he'd quit.

"I do what I must."

_Liar. You do what you _**_want_**_. _

Gabriel had heard everything Raphael had had to say to their little brother and Dean Winchester. And he was unnerved by it. It didn't sound anything like his brother was supposed to. But Gabriel also knew that Raphael would only open up when he was _hella _pissed. Luckily, it was one of Gabriel's more honed and unparalleled abilities.

"Like jumpstarting your own homemade Apocalypse? Yeah, quality is a little iffy, but thems the breaks when you make most of the shit up as you go along. _Kuddos for having the gall, though_."

And maybe it ends with a touch of true disgust, something the archangel of justice in Gabriel remembers, a value of life that of all the archangels, he'd expected Raphael to share the most.

_Healer_

It's enough to make Raphael's eyes flash and his anger make him raise his head high against any shame. He always was more responsive to the subtler insults.

"You would not understand. You are** forsaken**. Alone. I must take charge of our little brothers and sisters. They are my responsibility."

"What, and Mike's not good enough at parenting? Only you?" _Control freak._

Michael had been a fantastic older brother.

Untl Lucifer fell.

Then everything sucked.

"Michael is no longer interested in who lives or dies outside of Lucifer." A small bitterness, there, the loss of two brothers instead of just one - Michael had become the general to cope with his grief, and in so doing, left them as a brother, stowing away his love in favor of orders. Obviously, he hadn't since returned.

Gabriel can almost understand that sentiment, but only as betrayal. After all, he missed them, too.

He bit off a, "_is any of that new?_", not wanting to alert Raphael to the fact that he was well acquainted with the "mysterious" ArchAngels.

"And since Dad flew the coop you've been holding the wheel? That fun?"

"I find I am tired. So I am ending things." There, _there_ it is. Not just weary but determined and completely uncompromising.

Or so Rahpael pretended.

"Oh yeah, I bet Michael _jumped_ at that. And since no one else will oppose you because it's pretty obvious you've been keeping the **juicy info that Dad's gone** from the masses, I'm sure it's all working out _very_ nicely._ Really_. Brilliant idea."

Maybe he'd pushed a little too much there, what with his barely restrained (okay not at all restrained) sarcasm, but such was the way of family.

"**I HOLD ALL THE POWER OF THE HOST**." Ah. Big Brother voice. Ick.

"That doesn't give you the _right_-"

"**BUT IT DOES. NO ONE ELSE WOULD TAKE IT, AND IF I HAD KNOWN, I WOULD NOT HAVE TAKEN IT, EITHER. I HAVE LOST TOO MUCH FOR IT TO BE WORTH IT. I AM TIRED OF THIS STRIFE, SO LET IT END. LET IT _ALL_ END**."

And those great silver grey wings had begun to stretch, only to recoil at the boundaries of the little ring of fire.

And yet, all Gabriel can say is, "You're _tired_? Welcome to the life."

He did a little flourish, arms spread out expansively. Before Raphael can counter, he's hissing, glaring, "Oh, what, it was all supposed to be roses once Michael took down Lucifer? Or did you only care when Dad decided he'd had enough of this world's shit, too, and left you to hold it together?"

Raphael holds his gaze evenly for only a moment before he deflates. He never was one to deny things. He knew better than anyone that Heaven had become some twisted monopoly of power. He'd accepted it and then continued to make it so, hoping to stabilize it instead of let if fall into chaos.

"I find myself alone." It was quiet, sad, almost pathetic, but not quite - as if Raphael could not quite master nor understand such a state of being. It was a confused, disoriented murmur.

Gabriel had no words. So Raphael continued, "Is this how you feel? Ostrasized? You used grace, not demonic powers, to summon that -" He nods to the remains of the lollipop jutting out of Gabriel's mouth - "So it is obvious you chose to fall, to separate."

Gabriel is laughing, and if he was human, he's sure he would be crying, too.

"No one ever chooses to be different, to suddenly find themselves in opposition to the Host. They just _are._ And some fight it, or deny it, or even try to ignore it. Some accept it gladly, embrace it, and turn on the others. Some run."

"And you?"

"Everyone was on a different gracelength than me. You wanted things I couldn't possibly be a part of, couldn't possibly give of myself. So I ran. I loved too much to fight, not to sound briefly like Lucifer. Actually, the situation is more Cas -centric, I find -"

"I have removed myself, then, for there is too much they do not know. That I cannot share."

Gabriel gave his brother a pitying look, "Your problem isn't opposition to the Host, Raph. You _are_ the Host. But you're not really emotionally or mentally or, let's face it, honestly even spiritually stable enough for the job. You're making decisions you can't even bring yourself to regret. You don't care anymore, do you?"

He's hoping Raphael is angry enough, just enough to open up, but he already knows he isn't.

Immediately Raphael's distress is smoothed over. He drags up whatever dregs of energy he has to spare to hide himself under a mask again. But Gabriel is the one skilled at hiding, and he can spot it from a lightyear away.

"The Apocolypse will bring about paradise. Father may yet return."

"Seriously? because, what, paradise wouldn't be paradise otherwise? Because he's not _annoyed_ or anything-"

"What are you insinuating?"

"C'mon, what if it was a test? Dad loves them, right? What if he wanted to see how us kids would act without him around to tell us what to do?"

It suffuses the air, a hanged corpse, unspoken; _what if he was disappointed?_

"And if it were a test? We would be expected to keep faith, to carry on his orders, to bring about paradise."

"Bitch, please, that was the shmeel for humans. Not us. We weren't made to lose faith."

"It is the only answer I can come up with."

"Then you've gotten dumb, Raph, for realsies."

"**HOW DARE YOU JOKE! HOW DARE YOU QUESTION ME! HOW DARE YOU BLASPHEME, WHEN YOU KNOW NOTHING OF PAIN OF**-"

And there, _pain_? Gabriel knows _everything_ of pain. And then the levies break.

"**I WILL _ALWAYS_ QUESTION YOU, YOU INCORRIGIBLE ASS! YOU THINK I CANNOT _SEE_? IF YOU'RE SUICIDAL, FUCKING ASK FOR HELP! DON'T HIDE IT UNDER THE BLOOD OF OUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS**-" He shuts himself off then, a sudden lever to plug up his words, the rush of them, because he knows if he gets lost in them he'll give it all away.

"Raph, _please_." He chokes out.

Raphael turns away, wrenches himself to face a different direction.

Angels don't cry. Or rather, it takes a lot. It can register, their human eyes can shine as if they are on the verge of it, but it's not really supposed to happen. It never gets to that point.

But their grace can tear. When they're truly emotionally compromised, little pockets of energy slip off their wings, immersing the air in metaphysical light.

And Gabriel's spell doesn't hide that, and sooner or later, Raphael will realize he's generating too much energy for some fallen soldier, that he's something bigger, something more.

He's got limited time if he wants to keep the facade up.

But a millennia with humans, and he's learned emotions too well. And they change everything. And he sucks at them, and they're so demanding, and they take too much and give too much and never negotiate.

"**_Raphael_**." He half snarls, hoarsely, "Don't you dare turn away from me.**_ Look at me_**."

But Raphael just clenches his jaw, and on the metaphysical plane, the air is blinding with energy, because deep down, Raphael is still the healer, and even if Gabriel is just some fallen wayward brother to him, even if he's not in need of stitches, he's in pain, and it causes Raphael pain to stand by and ignore it.

And suddenly Gabriel sees it doesn't matter any more, it can't matter, because Raphael is pretending to be something he's not, and Gabriel doesn't know what to do.

And his own wings flare out, and after a millisecond he drags off the spell.

_Because nothing can truly hide grace, anyway._

Raphael catches it, and gapes at him, "_No_." He whispers.

Gabriel's face scrunches and he doesn't fight the tears that slip over because he'd realized long ago that he'd changed,_ he'd changed_ and become something different, and that in itself was not supposed to be possible, because angels weren't supposed to be able to change. And he's cried before, of course, because accepting emotions wasn't a pick and choose affair - they all came rushing at you and drowning you and filling you up and they were immense and that was why, despite all their faults, he applauded humans.

Because Angels, for all they could do, _could not cope with emotions_.

Raphael's expression was agonized, and his metaphysical form stretched out it's hands as if hoping to touch him. But the fire repelled them, and they stopped at the edge, as if pressed upon glass. His expression descended into one of awed torment, as if seeing Gabriel cry in the physical plane was more pain then he could bare.

"_You live?_" He said softly in Enochian, "_Truly_?"

Gabriel gives a wet, broken laugh, "What, miss me?"

_drip drip drip_

"Free will, Raph."

They sat across one another, divided by fire, because Gabriel still wasn't ready. Still didn't know what he'd do after so long without a brother. Because Raphael might kill him if he was let out now.

"Dad was always going on about it. And humanity. And now those two knuckleheads are excersizing every fiber of it in their souls. Maybe it's Dad's way of saying, 'Now you try' and we're still asking for a clarification of orders."

"We failed. In some way yet unknown to us, but we did. We must have."

Gabriel is silent for a long moment, "Undoubtedly."

It is quiet, but for the gentle rain. It is docile, as if Raphael's wrath has been blasted into some humble submission, shock breaking any concentration he had.

Then it comes, "You left me." Accusation, hard, just as hard as Gabriel always thought it would be. Raphael had had Michael, but Michael was no longer his brother, just his General.

"You're trying to_ die_." Of course it's bigger then that - he's letting so many die, too many.

If Gabriel were still the Bringer of Judgement, he would have punished Raphael for this.

"_I thought you **did** die_. Do you have ANY IDEA HOW WE MOURNED?"

"With roses?"

"**_DON'T_,** **GABRIEL**-" Raphael choked. He looked away, closed his eyes, tried collected himself.

And Gabriel is starting to understand. That getting into emotions really begins with love. That's the first one, it seems. Because you can't hurt if you don't love something. You can't hate if something you love isn't being destroyed or threatened. You can't feel pain if something you love isn't being destroyed or threatened. You can't be afraid if something you love isn't being destroyed or threatened. And angels? Angels don't cry.

And Angels don't _choke_.

And right now, he's converting Raphael to emotions.

"Raph?"

It comes softly, wary on that air, as if it betrayed him because he knows just like Gabriel knows he can't choke. And he has no clue, so he thinks he's choking on the grace tears in the air, indistinguishable from the oxygen because it's filled up the great cavernous room and it's leaking out of the doors and window cracks and even as water finds its way in, little bubbles of grace are squeezing out, like lava lamp paraffin wax.

"I realize I have not spoken your name since…your departure." Suddenly Raphael hardened.

"_You left me_." He repeated.

"I _couldn't_, Raph, I _couldn't_ stay." Gabriel was pleading.

"You left all of the Host to me. You…_you made me into this_."

"No Raph, you did this to yourself." And if he isn't the saddest about it, no one is.

"_How_? How could you abandon your duties? How could you abandon us? _Me_?"

Gabriel continued to ignore the fact that he was crying. Once he'd discovered it, it had lost it's exotic appeal. This wasn't the first time he'd cried over Heaven, and likely wouldn't be the last.

"I did my _job_, Raph, I judged. And I found heaven lacking." It comes out strangled, because Gabriel has never said it out loud before now. Because who would he tell that to? He'd never had to speak about it like this.

Until the Winchesters figured him out.

Raphael looks as if Gabriel has just shot him. His shock fluctuates from his grace, disturbs the globules crowding the air, distress pooling and they could be swimming in Grace for all of it floating around them. This place is like a beacon.

But Gabriel has to continue, to unbury this pressure he's locked in his Grace for too long.

"Raph, you'd be proud. I judged myself, and I didn't like what I saw. So yeah, I jumped ship. I couldn't handle it anymore. Everything was screwed. I decided not only was I undeserving of Heaven, but Heaven was undeserving, period. My ability to bring divine justice was compromised. I could no more judge coherently than I could carry that judgement out. I couldn't carry out my duties, so I ran. I fucking left, Hell _yeah_ I did." He's finally admitting that there is too much water on his face, and rather than wipe it away like a child, he focuses his degrading mental energy on siphoning it off, even if it won't last.

"Gabriel…please…" Raphael begins.

"Please what? Return? To _that_ shitstorm? Get in the middle all over again!? **NO! YOU CAN'T IMAGINE WHAT IT DID TO ME, NO I FUCKING**-"

_stop._

Damn, today was emotional. Just packed with fun things for the family.

It was like coming out to your older brother.

…

...when he thought you were dead.

Awkward.

_drip drip drip_

Raphael does something unimaginable, then. He reaches out with his mechanic's hands, and reaches over the boundary, and they both see the flesh begin to smoke, to crackle, and Gabriel panics, just like he always does, and says, "_**Shit**, Raph, what are you_-" Before he Finger snaps it away on instinct.

And Raphael isn't ready and he isn't ready, and nothing is okay, it's so, so far from okay, but instead of attempting to murder Gabriel, his older brother half collapses on him.

Because Raphael only understands the basic physics of hugs.

And Gabriel is sobbing into his brother's shoulder because it's too much.

With emotions, _it's too much_.

And he hears the strangest sound coming from Raphael.

And it's the confused huffing of someone crying for the first time.

And Angels don't cry.

But it's mixed with something else.

Because Raphael is laughing relief into Gabriel's grace, and old wings wrap around one another, anchoring two lost brothers in a war.

And Gabriel realizes that they've _all_ been alone since Lucifer went down because Lucifer was in the Cage and Michael went into his own little world and he'd faked dying and left Raphael alone, too.

And if they have each other maybe they can fix this, if they remember, if they _try_.

Or at least forgive, because even though Angels can't change, are unmarked by the passing of time...

Angels can't cry.

And here they are.

So that must make them something more.

Something _enough_.


End file.
